So very late and consequently back posted, but hey, at least I did it in the end right?
Getting There
The decision was, in the end, for me to get the train to Dorchester where I would be picked up by Ob and taken back to her house for the night, and for Ob to drive us to the little house we rented for the week and use the ferry instead of waterwings or crossing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang style. Sensible really, if not as fun. Or destructive.
Regardless, most things went fine – odd for us really – and we only got lost the once. True, we had SatNav to help us, but it is us so I wouldn’t be surprised if even with TomTom’s sage guidance we ended stranded up in the middle of nowhere.
The ferry was dull – and when Ob and I are together if we’re even slightly bored it’s hugely noticeable because it doesn’t usually happen – and for some reason talking about BDSM, men kissing and orgies was kept quite quiet. I’m surprised at us really, we’re usually so badly behaved and proud of it!
We stayed in a nice hotel the night we arrived in Ireland to break up the journey because it was a further couple of hours or more to drive to our rented place from the ferry landing. Hotel was nice enough; I don’t remember anything particularly special about our time there apart from taking pictures of Ob’s ass. Which, let’s be fair, isn’t strange for us either.
Driving up to the house by the TomTom’s directions was an adventure though – a very pretty one too. My Mum would have been oogling the houses like I was no doubt; they really were very pretty.
Eventually, after travelling a myriad of confusing, leafy back roads, we found ourselves in Aughrim which, we discovered, was the nearest civilisation and about four miles from our cottage.
We found the place, faffed for a bit about who would call the owners about keys, decided, found out that there is no mobile signal in Askanagap AT ALL and ended up driving back to Aughrim to call them and then returning to the cottage to wait. It wasn’t a long wait. Woman came, said hello, showed us around the property (while we nodded and smiled, ummed and ahhed and generally wanted the place to ourselves to squee) then kindly told us she would take the bins and disappeared into the ether.
Yes, we did squee. A lot.
The House
Given that we tend to share a bed when we’re together it may seem odd that we rented a cottage with three bedrooms. But it did mean we got a dressing room each.
There were some leaflets and a help guide in the living room, from which we determined that County Wicklow is mostly just gardens. And hills. But mostly gardens.
Shower in the main bathroom was just a dip in the floor and a curtain rail, something I found quite entertaining. The floor was like a tile swampland by the time I was done.
We had great fun pelting up and down the corridor that went from the front to the bathroom at the back of the house; for some reason running or skipping was necessary. I have no idea why.
The kitchen had patio doors looking out over a football pitch and some hills/mountains (which were awesome as the mist came down over them). They also allowed for a good view of the herd of sheep that occasionally toddled past.
There was parking behind the house and we kept forgetting to close the gates, city slickers that we are, so we almost got invaded by said flock of sheep that got herded along the road outside.
Settling In
We’re both very good at settling in wherever our ass happens to land so within an hour it was like we’d like there for ages. We went shopping almost immediately and had an incident with TomTom telling us the closest Tesco was in Dublin (lies!) even though the woman who let us into the house said there was one in a nearby town… we ended *dun dun dun* at a Lidl instead. One of our main notes for the next time we go (and we will) is to preempt this need and write down directions to the nearest supermarket beforehand (Arlow, Gorey or Wicklow apparently).
Following that we also visited a nearby village for a butchers and got some MEAT. Because I’m a carnivore. The butcher, bless him, was very patient with us. We were like a couple of doddery old biddies – “Do we want bacon?” “I don’t know… will we eat it?” “Steak?” “Hmmm… I’m not really sure…” etc.
Once we were equipped with food we were pretty much fine though. We went out for food a couple of times but mostly ate in (I cooked, because I am the meat handler – yes, I handled our meat).
We weren’t really keen on going out much at all, except to make sure we had photos and videos and food. We talked about visiting a local attraction or going to Dublin because it was the capital… but didn’t. Because we’re indoor people and happy that way, damn it!
The Routine
The way the week was going to go was established fairly quickly; we both sat under a duvet on the living room couch with our laptops and lots of junk food for a good proportion of the holiday.
We mostly lived on ‘pasta and x’ meals and food that is not good for us but so tasty we don’t care.
In terms of writing we did get a lot done though, so YAY for productivity!
The Perverts
Yes, you read that right. We had a big epic drive around trying to find a restaurant that looked good and ended up in a hotel restaurant half way back to the cottage. It was nice enough and the food was good, no complaints about the place itself, but…
There were perverts. Old Irish perverts, in fact.
I can’t remember for the life of me what their names were anymore, but Ob and were at the table next to them and at some point we started talking with them. They were asking about our accents and were surprised we were English.
We chatted about Ireland and how rubbish Ob and I were being by not travelling far, which led onto writing and such, which (since it’s us) obviously led onto porn.
Yes, that’s right, Ob and I spent three hours talking to two old Irish perverts about PORN. We mentioned our current joint project a bit and the conversation somehow ranged into sexual fantasies and such. It was utterly surreal.
We left late and as we were driving back kept suddenly saying, “Did that just happen?” and things of that nature. It was actually hard to believe.
“Ob… we just spent three hours talking to two Irish perverts, strangers in a hotel restaurant, about porn!”
“I know…”
Leaving
Bottom line: we didn’t want to.
We complained about this pretty much from the moment we got there.
We made many videos and wrote in the guest book and mourned on the last night and hoped for a sudden blizzard that never came… possibly because it was July.
Getting Back
The trip seemed far shorter on the way back, oddly. Though it was horrific because we had to get up at a ridiculous time of the morning and about fifteen minutes into the drive crunched our way over a passing bunny; it seemed like a bad omen.
In Summary
So we mostly sat in our pajamas eating and writing and taking mad videos and photos. In short, it was exactly the kind of holiday we wanted and therefore brilliant.
Photos
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| Ireland July 2010 |
Videos
Random Car Conversation Volume 1 of 1 Million
Random Car Conversation Volume 2 of 1 Million
Journey To The House
Exploring The House
Random Car Conversation Volume 3 of 1 Million
The shocking truth: the elusive Ob DOES sleep! This never before seen footage reveals all!
Me Cooking and Ob DJ-ing
Some videos were too long to upload anywhere and since I don’t have my own hosting anywhere I decided sticking it on my SkyDrive and linking to it was the best option…
Need to remember not to make videos longer than ten minutes in future…
Getting On The Ferry (I particularly recommend this one – Ob is a bitch!)
So much love for that post it’s unbelievable.
I also think one of the perverts was called Donald… Donald the old Ireland Pervert! Ahhh, bad times XD
Let’s see if we can’t attract some more when we go back to Ireland for round two!! WUU!!
P.S. our Holiday really was made of a million different shades of win!